Tauriel, Captain of the Guard
by sazza-da-vampire
Summary: Family Matters. Tauriel, Captain of the Guard, is having a rough time. Outperformed yet again by Prince Legolas, who helped the White Council overthrow Dol Guldor while she was rounding up trespassing Dwarves, Tauriel proves herself more dangerous and less wise than your average Elf. The Dwarves' escape from Mirkwood from a very different point of view to Bilbo's.
1. Chapter 1

Dissclaimer: I own nothing recognisable.

Tauriel, the Captain of the Guard

Tauriel raised the glass, clinking it against her father's. "Cheers," she said.

"To an uneventful night," Galion returned, before downing his rather large flagon of wine.

Tauriel's eyes widened when she sipped her wine, for she had not realised just how strong the Dorwinion truly was. She'd had a bad month, since catching those Dwarves bumbling around in the forest, and to make matters worse, the Prince and his friends had outperformed her yet again – she had captured renegade Dwarves, trespassing in the forest, but Legolas and his little _Lalaith_ patrol had knocked the Necromancer off his high horse.

Burning with jealousy, the young Captain of the Guard forgot her duties for a while, and allowed herself to enjoy the whimsical flights of fantasy which can only be found in the bottom of a barrel of ale, or a bowl of strong wine.

Tauriel, having been in Rílglín's age group for her Trials, had always had high expectations of herself and her career. Now, Rílglín had ditched her, to join that silly little patrol in South Mirkwood with the girl he liked – Aldanna, who had nothing which Tauriel herself didn't have – and Tauriel was stuck in the Home Guard.

Yes, she had climbed her way to the top, but Captain of the Guard was basically a dead-end job – the end being either death defending her King, or being stuck in the same job forever. The last Captain of the Guard had met a rather painful end, involving a spider brought into the palace by a group of youngsters.

As Tauriel complained to her father, who grumbled in return about his never-ending duties in party season, she didn't notice how the walls became blurry, or her cup seemed to never empty.

The flagon of Dorwinion was perhaps the worst decision Tauriel had ever made, but in her defence, she had been under parental supervision the whole time. Not that she needed it. She'd been an adult for centuries.

At least, that's what she later told herself, and the King, and her mother, who was perhaps the most furious of the lot.

It was Taurwen who found her husband and daughter an hour later, when both failed to show up to the party upstairs. Her shouted disapproval rang through the halls, and the volume only increased when another guard arrived to take over duty on the Dwarves, but found their cells empty.

.

The next morning, Tauriel had the worst hangover she had ever suffered through. It was worse even than the day after her Trials, when she and Rílglín had been duped into trying Lord Celeborn's strongest liquor by previous Lothlorien graduates.

She suffered through the embarrassment of the Elvenking telling her off for losing the Dwarves very publicly, and was stripped of her command; instead she would be Lothellon's slave labour, at the bodyguard's beck and call until the King and Lothellon decided she had learned to stay sober on the job.

That was when Tauriel vowed to never taste any alcohol again.


	2. Bodyguard of the King 20

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable

Tauriel, Bodyguard of the King 2.0

Lothellon was far too happy, Tauriel thought, for someone stuck on punishment duty. She wasn't sure, but she had a theory that Thranduil had saddled his bodyguard with her as retribution. She imagined frogs in the King's bed, or perhaps the bodyguard had said something inappropriate about the Queen.

The big ellon stood on Raven Hill, by the King's side, chatting idly about anything and everything with the men and elves assigned to protect Bard and Thranduil. It was driving Tauriel mad.

"I thought there'd be no more fighting, now the dragon's dead," a young lad whispered to his comrade, a grizzled man who had probably been born when Tauriel became Captain of the Home Guard.

"That's when all this trouble began, lad," the man answered, and Tauriel snorted. She couldn't help it.

"Did you have something to add, Elf?" the man asked, turning to Tauriel. She raised one delicate eyebrow, crossing her arms in front of her chest, tapping her toe as she considered her answer.

"Blimey, he's just like my mother when she's deciding how to punish me!" the young man blurted, only for all the Elves present to correct him with one syllable, 'she.'

As the lad gaped at her, Tauriel stretched, noting that no-one had strung their bows yet. "Stop that," Lothellon murmured to her, and she looked up at the taller elf, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Stop what?"

"You're driving the men crazy," Lothellon whispered to her in Silvan, causing the Elvenking and the few other elves close enough to hear to snort with laughter.

Sure enough, when Tauriel glanced back to the Men, eyes were popping, and she remembered that she was wearing her newest piece of armour: a fitted vest of thick leather, designed to be comfortable and protective without hindering movement. It also showed her shapely figure rather blatantly, and she wondered how anyone could possibly have mistaken her for a male. _Prejudice, perhaps? An expectation that since women don't fight, neither do ellyth?_

Finally, Lothellon strung his bow, and Tauriel did the same. She allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk when the men stared in disbelief as she bent the strong bow, and pulled the string to her ear, testing it, and perhaps showing off a little. Lothellon growled a warning, and Tauriel sighed, accepting that she really shouldn't be teasing men before the battle. _After, though_, she mused. _I've given up all alcohol, and Rílglín still pines over that Aldanna. There's no harm in a little post-battle fun._

She shook her head clear, hardly believing that giving up alcohol was making her consider whoring around in the remains of Laketown. Where had that come from? It's not like she was dependent on alcohol! _It's all in your head, girl,_ she admonished herself. _You decided to draw the line, and it's making you unreasonable. _

It was the dwarves' arrival which spurred the battle to start. Tauriel had no hate for dwarves, but no love for them either, and so when a loud voice ordered them to cease this madness, she stopped by her King and his bodyguard (although, if Lothellon was asked about this moment, he may have accused Tauriel of attempting to run away, causing him to drag her back by her collar).

Tauriel had met Mithrandir only once before, for the Istari rarely considered the little rustic realm in the woods of the Rhovanion worthy of interest. She had been just a little girl, about to start her warrior training, and Mithrandir had ordered her to stop, and get away from her mother's oven, where she had been trying to bake a cake for Rílglín's birthday. Then, as now, Mithrandir had used what seemed to be some sort of magic, to cease her forward momentum, and Tauriel now froze, remembering how her mother had rushed into the bakery, shocked to find her precious daughter halfway through climbing into the huge bread oven.

With effort, she pulled her mind back to the here and now, and turned, as an ominous feeling engulfed her spirit, a message from the trees reaching her heart, and the heart of every Elf around her.

An army of wargs and orcs were quickly approaching from the north, with a dark cloud of crebain squawking bloody murder, in a terrifying counterpoint to the baying of the wargs.

This was why Tauriel was here. Not to fight dwarves, who wanted to kill her, but whom she couldn't care less about; but to rid the world of orcs and wargs.

_And spiders_, her treacherous mind added. _No! I don' care if Legolas is better than me! I'm going to kill those wargs!_

"Tauriel," Lothellon's voice cut through Tauriel's wandering focus. "You and I have one goal today: keep the King alive. Don't seek out glory, you can do that another time. Today, all that matters is the King's safety. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," Tauriel answered. Lothellon nodded, stepping behind the King to retake his position on Thranduil's left side.

_Protect the King_, Tauriel nearly laughed. She'd spent her career in the Home Guard protecting the King, and really, she didn't need to be told to protect him now.

After Rílglín, her mother, and her father, she loved the King most of all the people she knew. Perhaps because he had never judged her any less capable than those with warriors for parents, or perhaps because he was a genuinely likeable person, or perhaps because her father so idolised the elf, but whatever the reason, Tauriel loved Thranduil, and she would defend the King against all his foes.

Others may say she was being punished for being a drunk, but as Tauriel stood by the King's side, waiting for the onslaught of orcs and wargs, she realised that this was the proudest moment of her life.

She raised her bow, while by her side, her King raised his own. The Men did not move a muscle, for they knew the enemy to be far out of range, but Tauriel had a bow far more powerful than any a Man could draw. Her range was literally inhuman.

Tauriel was surprised when Thranduil released his arrow, without shouting any commands. Against all odds, it dove straight into the throat of an incoming warg, and Tauriel's respect for her King grew. She had never seen anyone shoot so far, and so accurately, not even in competitions. The moment she deemed the enemy to be within her range, she chose a target and released, watching with satisfaction as the warg tripped, spilling its rider as its head exploded from her arrow punching through its open maw.

Below, on the arm of the mountain, Tauriel could hear Legolas giving orders to the Elven archers, but she took her cues from the King, switching to her sword when she ran out of arrows.

The three Elves stood together, swords drawn, as the other Elves of the guard grouped around them in a protective circle, facing the wargs who made their way towards the King.

Bard dressed like any other Man of Esgaroth, and the men had an easier time defending him when the onslaught finally broke through the vanguard. Thranduil, though, was easily recognisable as a leader, which turned him into a primary target.

_I will not let you die,_ Tauriel promised Thranduil silently.

She could barely comprehend the idea of death, having never seen an Elf die, even during her time in the Guard. This was the first time she had faced an army. Thranduil had survived the Dagorlad, which had wiped out two of every three Greenwood warriors.

She would be damned if Thranduil fell today.


End file.
